


Five Times Duncan and Gigi Had Each Other's Backs

by orphan_account



Series: Friends to Lovers Verse [1]
Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Apocalypse, Booksmart (2019), House of Cards (US TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Best Friends, Bisexual Duncan, Bisexual Gigi, Crying, Depression, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Humor, Mentions of homophobia, Minor Character Death, Mutual Pining, Past Relationship(s), Pop Culture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-05
Updated: 2019-09-05
Packaged: 2020-10-10 06:09:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20523227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Duncan and Gigi have been best friends since they were kids. A five times fic about some of the highs and lows in their relationship. Chaotic-Bi + Disaster-Bi = BFFs 5eva





	Five Times Duncan and Gigi Had Each Other's Backs

**Author's Note:**

> The plot and characters of House of Cards belong to Neflix. Booksmart (2019) belongs to United Artists Releasing. 
> 
> I used scenes from The Year of Spectacular Men (2018) and lines from the movie Interstellar (2014) and from Shakespeare's Sonnet 116 and As You like It. 
> 
> All mistakes are my own.

**(1)**

“Oh, my God. Give me some of that popcorn,” Duncan says as soon as he flops on the bed one Wednesday night.

Gigi doesn’t look at him. “Get it yourself. I’m busy.” 

Duncan gives her an unimpressed look. “Breaking into my apartment to watch Interstellar for the five thousandth time and cry into _my duvet_ does not count as busy.” When she doesn’t immediately move, he swats at her thigh. “Fine. Lower that cleav-corn here.”

Gigi ducks her chin and licks up a kernel. Chewing loudly, she leans to the side so that Duncan can dig his hand into the bowel she’s made out of the front of her sweatshirt.

They’re quiet for several minutes. Michael Caine’s narration is a soothing backdrop to their mastication.

Duncan sighs. “Bill was in top form today. Apparently, my intelligence is equivalent to that of a towel.” He pokes his tongue at a hull stuck between his teeth. “A wet one.”

Gigi pats his hair. “Newton's third law. You gotta leave something behind.” 

“…is that—is that supposed to mean something or are you just quoting the movie?”

“We used to look up at the sky and wonder at our place in the stars, now we just look down and worry about our place in the dirt.”

“…again, I’m not—are you getting at something? Is this about the cancer? Just because he might die does not mean he has a free pass to be an angry douche.”

Silence. Duncan squirms awkwardly.

“Gig?”

More silence.

He scratches at his nose. Eyes fixed on Anne Hathaway, he says, “okay. So maybe he has a right to be angry. But does he have to be so mean?” 

His question is answered with a loud snore. 

Duncan’s eyes snap to Gigi’s face. She’s sacked out. Completely dead to the world and face down in her popcorn boobs. “Are you serious right now! Gigi!” he hisses.

She doesn’t stir.

He pulls her head back by her ponytail and shoves an un-popped kernel up her nose. Gigi surges back to wakefulness between one blink and the next. Her snorting gasp blows the kernel out of her nostril. It flies across the room and ricochets off of the television. 

Mimicking her monotone voice, Duncan says, “do not go gentle into that good night.” 

**(2)**

“I don’t want to.”

Duncan hands another suitcase to the driver. “You have to. This was a part of the deal we made, Gigi.”

Gigi pouts and leans further out of the town car’s rear passenger-side door. “No. Nope. Not gonna fly. You know you can’t take me seriously when I’m in a Shakespearean phase.”

Duncan tries not to smile. Puffing out his chest he says, loudly, “the fool doth think he is wise, but the wise man knows himself to be a fool.”

Ernest finishes cramming Gigi’s luggage into the trunk and applauds politely. “Bravo, Mr. Shepherd.”

Gigi grits her teeth. “Do not encourage him, Ernie! Duncan, I am _not _going!”

Duncan leans into the vehicle and pulls the seatbelt across her chest. “Have you ever considered that you might like your dad’s new girlfriend? Can't you let him have this? He's been alone since your mom died, Gigi. It's been five years.”

Gigi strains against the nylon belt and grits her teeth. “Have you ever considered that your all black wardrobe is a form of self-flagellation for your latent bisexuality? It's 2019, Duncan. Wear a pattern. Suck a dick.”

Duncan doesn’t flinch. She’ll have to do better than that. “I've considered it every day since the ninth grade.”

Brown eyes meet blue. “Richard Hoffmeier,” they say in perfect unison.

Gigi looks at him very seriously and whispers, “great white buffalo.”

Duncan does crack a smile then. He pokes a finger into the middle of her forehead and pushes her into the back seat. He almost succeeds at doing her seatbelt up when a small hand shoots out and fists in the front of his jacket.

A brief, yet intense struggle ensues.

“Get—No. _Gigi_. No biting! GET. IN. THERE.”

They’re both panting by the time he manages to belt her in and slam the door shut. Gigi presses her face up against the window and brays like a donkey. He can see up her nostrils.

Duncan says, “it’s one weekend. That’s it. That was the deal. I go with you to visit Peter and _Vivienne _and you take all of my mother’s calls.”

Gigi bangs her fists against the glass in response. “HELP! SOMEBODY HELP ME! I’M BEING DOGNAPPED!”

Ernest snickers, “I think you’re in for a long weekend, Mr. Shepherd.” He pats Duncan consolingly on the back. “Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks. But bears it out even to the edge of doom." 

Duncan grimaces. “Nothing inspires doom quite like the holiday season.”

**(3) **

Duncan extricates himself from a dull conversation with another socialite and slips away to the guest bathroom for a much needed pee. 

He’s just washing his hands when a sob rings out from behind the shower curtain.

Metal rings screech against the shower rod when he jerks the curtain back. 

“Gigi,” he hisses. “What are you doing in Vanderbilt’s tub?”

Gigi chokes out another sob and hides her face behind the fall of her long hair. 

Concerned, Duncan folds himself down onto the bathroom rug. “Are you alright?”

She’s sitting in the porcelain tub with her party dress fanned out around her. She lifts a small hand and thrusts the magazine clutched in her grip closer for his inspection.

Her blonde coatrack of an ex-girlfriend is on the cover.

“Ugh,” Duncan scoffs. “That fucking hoe. What now? Please tell me my prayers came true and she finally caught a myriad of sexual diseases.” 

Gigi tucks her hair behind her ear and turns toward him. Black mascara tears run in tracks down her cheeks. 

“Can you just be supportive of me?” she cries. “Just for once? Can you not be sarcastic for one second of your life and try to be my best friend? Please!” 

Duncan parts his lips in surprise at her outburst. He hadn’t realized that she was taking the breakup with Madison so hard. It was the third one this month. 

Before he can respond, Gigi throws her arms out in a sweeping gesture and blubbers, “just this whole thing, I feel so _terrible_!” She leans forward and shakes the magazine. “I’m gonna die alone now because I’m a nightmareand this fuck girl can’t keep it in her leather pants.” 

Duncan tucks a finger under her wobbly chin. “You’re not a nightmare. Did she say that? Is it in the magazine? I’ll send her muffins. With all the butter.”

Gigi pulls away from his touch and shakes her head. “I just want to be happy.”

Something twinges in Duncan’s chest. “We should do a song.”

The corner of Gigi’s mouth curls reluctantly. Brown eyes sparkle at him as she sniffles, “song and dance?”

He smiles back and echoes, “yeah, song and dance.”

\--

Chuckling, they position themselves in front of Duncan’s phone where it’s perched on top of the towel rack. Gigi’s standing on top of his shoes in her bare feet with her back to his chest. Annette waves at them through FaceTime and takes a sip of her wine.

“Ma!” Gigi shouts, “are you watching?” 

Annette smirks, “yes, I can see you, rotten children of mine. Adopted and otherwise acquired.”

Duncan holds a towel up in front of them like a curtain. Gigi counts to three and he whips it down.

They break out into a rousing rendition of Give My Regards to Broadway. They mug for the camera and throw out their best jazz hands.

Gigi’s relationship woes are forgotten by the time they reach the chorus. 

Neither of them hears the knocking on the bathroom door.

_“Hello? Who’s in there? Are you guys…singing? I need to use the washroom. Hello?"_

**(4)**

When Bill dies, Gigi gives Duncan eight hours to wallow in his feelings and then she crawls under his covers.

An arm snakes around Duncan’s waist and holds him tight. It’s dark and warm underneath his duvet. He's not sure how long he's been under here, but he likes it. There’s no sunshine to lessen the miasma of his depression.

He moves his face out of the pillow and grumbles, “how do you keep getting in here? I swear I changed the locks."

Gigi buries her face in his back. Her voice is muffled when she says, “the guy at the front desk likes me better than you.” 

Duncan snorts. “How is that possible? I live here. I send him birthday cards for Christ sakes.”

“I read his tarot cards once. Told him that he’d meet someone important on the 5th of April if he put a peanut butter sandwich in his pocket and walked around Meridian Hill Park counterclockwise.” 

The ridiculousness of her statement has Duncan rolling over to read her expression. She has to be bluffing. “The cards didn’t really say that.” 

Gigi combs her fingers through his greasy fringe. Her smile is wistful. “No. But he did meet a dog walker and fall madly in love.” 

Duncan squeezes his eyes shut and revels in her touch. The kindness in her eyes is too much.

It’s quiet except for the sound of their breathing until Gigi says, “he was an asshole. He was rude and homophobic and he made you feel like shit. But you loved him. And that’s okay. It’s okay to be sad.”

She brushes her fingers over the fine lines at the corners of Duncan's closed eyelids. Bitter tears spill over and get lost in the growth of hair on his cheeks. 

He inhales a shuddering breath and asks, “can you just stay?” 

Gigi presses forward so that their foreheads and noses are touching. “I’m with you until the end of the line, pal.”

Duncan sobs, “Stucky 5eva.”

**(5)**

Duncan withdraws from Gigi after the funeral. He ignores her texts. He pays the guy at the front desk not to let her in.

He feels guilty for needing her so much. For demanding her presence. She deserves better than his grief and depression.

He's pathetic. He called her in the middle of the night just to hear the sound of her voice three times last week. This can't go on. He needs a break to get his head on straight. 

\--

Duncan thinks he’s getting away with this casual interruption in their friendship until Gigi confronts him outside of his building. 

He’s walking out of the revolving doors when a familiar voice shouts, “hey, you! Dick Face! Come here and lie down with me for a second.”

Gigi’s sprawled out on the sidewalk, her balled up jacket is the only barrier between her back and the cement. The green leaves of an ornamental tree dance above her head. 

Duncan glares menacingly at a few people who stop and stare. _Fucking gawkers_.

He moves to stand over her and asks, “Gigi, what are you doing? I don’t want to think about the germs you’re picking up right now. Come on, get up.”

She doesn’t move her gaze from the leaves overhead. “No. You come here. Come lay down.”

“Absolutely not.” 

“…I’ll recite my menstruation haikus until you do.”

Duncan lies down beside her with a huff. “What exactly is the purpose of this?”

Gigi breathes deeply through her nose. “I feel like this stuff will feel better if we yell it.”

Duncan looks at her from the corner of his eyes. Her face gives nothing away. “What stuff?” 

“I MISS YOU, MOM!” she yells.

Blue eyes roll in their sockets. “Oh, okay. So that’s what we’re doing.” Gigi nods her head.

A pause. Duncan’s cheeks flush with embarrassment and suppressed emotion. “I MISS YOU, BILL!”

Gigi waits a beat and screams, “I’M SORRY, DUNCAN!”

He sits upright at her exclamation. He's confused by the conflict playing out on her face. “What for?”

She sits up next to him and a few tears fall from her eyes. “For not telling you that I love you."

He blinks.

She clarifies, "as more than a friend.”

Duncan's vision blurs. Butterflies explode in his chest. “Really?”

Gigi nods and scrubs at her face. She smudges her winged eyeliner beyond repair. She looks like a racoon. A rabid one.

Duncan’s never seen anything more beautiful in his life.

He tips his head back and shouts for all of D.C., “I HATE MUTUAL PINING TROPES!”

Gigi groans and tackles him to the ground.

Her kiss tastes sweet.

Duncan's still smiling when the police break up their make out session and Gigi get's arrested for threatening an officer.

It's okay. He'll bail her out before she organizes the detainees and plots a revolution. Or casts them all in a Shakespearean play. It is a Monday after all.


End file.
